#bcss au

[simpalert]

Blood curdles,suns set ep 3:regress and regrets [this aus inspired by silly celestials au](tw:blood,pain,starvation, sfw agere pls dont be weird]

eclipse was somehow able to sleep, its been weeks since he had. Bloodmoon and harvestmoon were just poking and prodding at him, wondering if he died, hey checked his status and he was alive. They guessed he passed out from all the pain and went to go control the body and hunt.leaving eclipse alone. 

And once eclipse woke up he was instantly hit with intense pain everywhere, everything hurt, he was hoping he was just having a bad dream but he remebered that this is his reality. In his eyes his well deserved reality.he wanted to scream and cry at the same time but nothing came out, he felt the need to grab the blood bag near him, tear it open, and chug it. He was so hungry, he was so scared, he was so in pain and stressed.

But he didnt, he couldnt, he was so weak, he was so in pain, he still felt so wrong about it.he felt the feeling of getting smaller and smaller.until he drops. He didnt understand what was going on, he felt small. His body was big but he felt small. He was in somewhere so big, so scary and so big.he didnt understand he didnt wanna feel like this.Hes not small, hes not weak. And just then another sharp pain kicked in, it hurt way worse then before he felt small. At this point he just started to sob.

Meanwhile bloodmoon and harvestmoon are enjoying a feast of a random hobo they found on the street, when they decided to go check on eclipse. Hey go back into the head space and see a sobbing eclipse. Bloodmoon laughs his head off finding the fact eclipse is crying hilarous but harvestmoon wasnt laughing,he wasnt even giggling. He noticed somthing bloodmoon couldnt. He tapped bloodmoon shoulder and says “brother, harvestmoon thinks dorito man has regressed”. Bloodmoon tilted his head and asked “what do you mean brother?”. Harvestmoon explained what regressing meant and the realization hit bloodmoon like a bus.”we cause dorito man to go small?” bloodmoon timidly asks which harvestmoon responds with a nod.bloodmoon look back to eclipse and asks “did we take it to far?”.”harvestmoon thinks we toke it way to far” harvestmoon says in reply.

Bloodmoon slowly goes over to eclipse and softly says “hey lil guy?” and the moment bloodmoon says that eclipse sobs even more stuttering out the words “i-i’m not little, i-i’m not little!” he scratchs at his face casing and pulls his rays which makes bloodmoon flinch and let out a worried whimper, he calls over harvestmoon who goes over and tries to explain to eclipse whats happening and why its happening. Eclipse after a bit understands why he feels so small, even though hes still upset about it. But just then another strike of pain to eclipses stomach, he sobs and crys, holding his stomach.the twins both know hes not gonna eat the blood if he knows it blood, so they go to someone who knows how to make blood not seem like blood.

Meanwhile lunars just happily prepping some blood cookie batter for the twins when they burst in, lunar trys to tell them they have to wait for the cookies but they stop him and explained the situation.lunar understands and grabs some blood muffins and cookies from the pantry. He tells the twins to let eclipse control the body. Which they do, and lunars greeted with terrified and pained crying and blubbering. Lunar shushes and calms him, handing him a muffin. Eclipse sniffs it a bit and takes a bite. And instantly starts to calm down. He happily eats the cookies and muffins. And lunar makes sure he doesnt eat to fast.

Eclipse ate quite a bit, and once he was done the pain was gone and he felt great. Still small but great.lunar smiles seeing that hes all better, he then asks if eclipse wants to sleep since he must be tired after eating all that. Which was true, instead of feeling pain he was feeling sleepy.eclipse streached and yawned rubbing his eye sleepily. Lunar grabs him a plushie and blanket, leading him over to a bed and laying him down. He reads eclipse a story and leaves a nightlight on when he turns off the light.

Looks like things are looking up.

[this is sfw agere pls dont be weird]

this au is inspired by @basilbots :]

ep one-ep two

[basilbots]

a lil dooddle/meme of our blood drinking eclipse aus

also all 3 parts are out [might be more idk] i can send you the links in asks :]

CHVJB Poor BCSS Eclipse Vamp Eclipse would also say he's going through the horrors but that's like 80% dramatics

[couldntbedamned]

Will Steve get any kind of redemption in your BCSS fics? You always give him such a hard time :/

Oh boy.

So.

I've implied in Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue that Steve is, in his own way, also a victim.

Was he right to ask his psychologist to ignore the signs of his shell shock* and approve him for the selection pool of spouses? Absolutely not. He. Knew. Better. But more importantly, his psychologist should have done her job, said NO, and rejected his candidacy as a selected spouse. Because she didn't, things got very bad very fast.

It was a horrible situation that could have been prevented if 1) the psychologist had done her job and not been swayed enough by Steve's handsome face and charm to ignore all of the red flags he was throwing up, and 2) if Steve himself had been a fucking adult and open to receiving treatment for his shell shock instead of deciding that the best way forward was to ignore it and chase that dream of marriage and a white picket fence.

While Feels So Right, Can't Be Wrong is going on, and later, Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue, Steve's getting the psychiatric treatment he should have had to begin with after he was discharged from the army, but he's never getting out of where he's been institutionalized by the BCSS. He also has to live with the knowledge that his actions almost led to an innocent woman's death and that's going to haunt him.

So I truly don't think it's bashing Steve. I may not like MCU!Steve as much as 616!Steve and I may let some characters show their understandable irritation with him at times (and yes, I do enjoy joking that Old!Steve is in a retirement community with a bedtime curfew, lots of people patting him on the hand and telling him "that's nice," and lots of green jello) but I don't consider that bashing.

The thing is, FSRCBW isn't Steve's story, it's Sharon's (and Tony's). Of course there's more of a focus on her trauma and what she endured during the four months she and Steve were married. Those four months are why she's in the fucking hospital to begin with and have had HUGE repercussions that are still being felt in GGSHB.

I will say that the parts about Sharon's trauma aren't even explicit, but they had to be addressed before she gets her happy ending with Tony.

---

* Yes, I know the term for it now is PTSD. In the AU, which is a fusion of the modern era and 1950s, it's still shell shock.

[azveille]

Intérêt d'un agent à double effet bronchodilatateur dans la BPCO

Un nouveau composé à double effet bronchodilatateur, l'AZD8871, a donné de premiers résultats encourageants sur la fonction pulmonaire et les symptômes chez des patients atteints de bronchopneumopathie chronique obstructive (BPCO), selon des résultats d'un essai clinique de phase IIa présentés au congrès de l'European Respiratory Society (ERS), qui s'est achevé mercredi à Paris.

Le composé AZD8871 est un agent bronchodilatateur de longue durée d'action bifonctionnel, qui combine à la fois l'effet anticholinergique (LAMA) et β-2 agoniste (LABA) en une seule molécule d'une nouvelle famille, les bronchodilatateurs dits MABA, a indiqué Ioannis Psallidas, directeur du développement clinique en pneumologie d'AstraZeneca, lors d'une session orale dimanche.

Une première étude clinique avait montré qu'une seule dose d'AZD8871 à 400 µg et 1.800 µg permet d'obtenir une bronchodilatation soutenue sur 35 heures chez des patients atteints de BPCO. Cette fois, c'est l'administration répétée de doses quotidiennes à 100 µg et 600 µg qui a été évaluée de manière randomisée, en double aveugle, contre placebo, en croisé.

Pour cette étude multicentrique, 42 patients avec une BPCO modérée à sévère ont été inclus, les traitements en cours arrêtés, puis ils ont été randomisés en trois groupes pour des traitements pendant deux semaines avec, entre chaque, des périodes sans traitement de 28 à 35 jours.

Ils ont été 31 à aller au bout des trois périodes de traitement.

L'analyse des données indique que le critère principal d'évaluation a été atteint avec une augmentation statistiquement et cliniquement significative du volume expiratoire maximal en une seconde (VEMS) résiduel après 15 jours de traitement.

Le gain moyen était de 0,26 l avec l'AZD8871 à 600 µg et de 0,161 l à 100 µg, alors qu'il était resté inchangé dans le groupe placebo.

Les mesures du VEMS sur 24 heures post-dose montrent une bronchodilatation significative et soutenue dès J1.

Les chercheurs ont également évalué l'effet du composé sur les symptômes (dyspnée, toux, crachat) et à J15, avec un score BCSS qui a baissé de manière significative à la fois sur les plans statistique et clinique pour la dose de 600 µg uniquement (-1,16 point par rapport au placebo).

Le chercheur a également fait valoir une réduction significative du recours quotidien aux médicaments de secours avec les deux doses de l'AZD8871.

Le composé a été globalement bien toléré.

Les bronchodilatateurs bifonctionnels sont à la fois en développement dans la BPCO et l'asthme. GlaxoSmithKline avait donné des résultats dès 2012 avec son composé GSK961081 ou batéfentérol (cf dépêche du 04/09/2012 à 13:55) mais aucun nouvel essai clinique ne semble pour le moment lancé, note-t-on. Parmi les MABA au début de leur développement clinique figurent notamment les composés CHF6366 de Chiesi et LAS190792 d'Almirall.

[simpalert]

Blood curdles, suns set ep 2:hard Times [an au inspired by the silly celesitals] (tw:pain,blood,starvation)

Pain, pain, that's all Eclipse has been feeling is pain. He didn't notice this before but hes also been crying, and suddenly he hears the twins laughing..at him..again…at this point, his own pain has already been drowned out anything around him. Hes just shaking, crying, whimpering, just all pain.

Meanwhile, the twins laugh and mock him, he couldn’t say he doesn’t deserve it, he does. Hes been a huge ass to anyones hes met or created. Suddenly a blood bag was shaken infront of his face, just out of reach. Bloodmoon giggled and said “cmon, get it. Bloodmoon knows you want it”. And the sad fact in eclipses eyes, bloodmoon was right, he did want it, he felt so hungry. Actually if he wasn't so in pain he would be hangry. But he refuses he turns away. Which makes bloodmoon laugh wildly and say “you think you can resist? You think you're better? Oh your so stuck up”.

“Look twin, look at this stuck-up joe” bloodmoon says with a cackle, which makes harvestmoon laughs aswell.they laugh for a bit before going to another part of the mindscape, away from eclipses crying, and going to sleep.meanwhile eclipse is looking at the blood bag that bloodmoon left, it was just sitting there, practically begging for him to take it. He wanted to, oh boy he wanted to. If he had saliva it would be trickling from his mouth.it was tourture he wanted it, but every part of him felt so wrong for wanting it. So he doesnt, he tries to sleep, but all he feels is pain, PAIN, so much pain. Everything hurts, his stomach hurts, his head hurts, his chest hurts. He felt sad, hangry, hungry, and just pure hurt. And at some point he just says to himself.

“I deserve this torment”

yeyeye ep two :D

again this au is inspired by @basilbots go check em out

ep one

[simpalert]

i have ep 3 of blood curdles,suns set already done and am resisting with every bone in my body to not post it now. [its also pretty long]

[basilbots]

hey i made a lil au inspired off ur vamp eclipse called blood curdles,suns set. currently writing the fic rn but i came up with this

vamp eclipse:yeah a weird glitch happened in the twins head and now i have the urge to eat blood. what about you?

bcss eclipse:oh yeah, the twins actually made me like this thanks to youtube tutorials and uhh yeah everything hurts cause i feel so wrong eating blood

vamp eclipse:...boy what??

hcbjg

I’m glad you liked the AU enough to be inspired by it! Honestly would love to see people play around with the general idea I’m not gonna act like it’s an original idea only for Me or anything like that

[couldntbedamned]

what's the whole BCSS thing in the fic you keep posting?

BCSS = Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections

In the AU it's a government agency that facilitates marriages. It started off with a noble idea of maybe matching up people returning from war with war widows/widowers, and that grew to include other government personnel like retired Central Security Bureau (CSB) agents, and then, because rich people suck and have to interfere in everything, became a way to basically buy a spouse who is legally required to essentially submit to them.

The marriages are essentially a three-way contract between the Selecting spouse, the Selected spouse, and the government. Marriages are for a minimum of 1 year, with a check-in at 6 months. Either the Selecting or Selected spouse can annul with no penalty after a year and measures are put in place to ensure the safety of both parties in that event.

In the AU, the BCSS faces some criticism, but is for the most part, very popular. Annulments after a year are the exception, not the rule.

If it sounds kind of fucked up... that's because it is. 100%.

(I have never pretended otherwise.)

There are more elements I could go into, such as what the rights of the Selected spouse are vs the Selecting spouse, and what happens when a BCSS marriage goes very very wrong, and all of the measures put in place for the pool of potential Selected spouses as well as screening of potential Selecting spouse, but you can DM me if you're curious.

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 1

Summary:  In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he's swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he's running out of time before he's out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a "lack of personal fulfillment and settling down," he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man's profile he'd briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It's not ideal, but if after a year it's not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It's a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It's either going to be forever or it's going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags:  Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

Author’s Note: So this is basically the 1950s/Modern fusion marriage law-ish type AU that literally no one asked for, but came to my mind because of who I am as a person.  So, either my apologies, or you're welcome. Up to you.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

<<<>>>

Chapter 1

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In his dire situation, there were only two choices available to him. One, he could enlist in the military and probably die fighting in some war his country had no business fighting in, or Two, he could sign himself over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections and take his chances as a bought spouse to a complete stranger.

He really didn’t want to die, and the BCSS was notorious for the thorough - often intrusive - screenings of potential spousal buyers.

Better a ring than a rifle, he finally decided.

Peter Parker, freshly 19 and all alone in the world, got what little affairs he had left in order after making the mistake of trusting the wrong man, and signed his life over to the BCSS.

He was bought and wedded less than a month in.

His husband – the man who selected him as a spouse - was a doctor, of all things! He was actually the most acclaimed and admired doctor working for the hospital in the sleepy little town the BCSS relocated Peter to after he signed himself over.

Dr. Stephen Strange was a tall man with piercing eyes that never seemed to quite decide on blue or green. Despite not even being 40, his dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, which made him look distinguished and debonair. He looked like a doctor, Peter thought. His hands in particular were long-fingered and dexterous and were firm around his own as he’d placed the silver ring on Peter’s finger in the little farcical theater that was their “marriage” ceremony. Peter could absolutely imagine those hands working miracles at the hospital.

He seemed stern. He was probably strict.

But Peter wouldn’t have been all but sold to him if Stephen wasn’t a fair man, right?

They were told by the Bureau Assessor to expect a follow-up in six months immediately before being congratulated on their marriage. Everything happened in a blur and then they drove away in Stephen’s Buick.

He didn’t expect a honeymoon, naturally. Travel was expensive and buying a spouse through the BCSS wasn’t cheap. Peter wasn’t exactly sure how much he’d set Stephen back and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

“Do you live in town?” He asked, studying the cheery storefronts and patrons walking to and fro on the generous sidewalks occasionally looking up to check the progress of the zeppelins flying high above them.

“Just outside, actually, in the Bleecker Grove Estates.”

Peter nodded. All he knew was that the Bleecker Grove Estates were reportedly the nicest part of town. Chances were that he’d find no friends in the addition, that they’d take one look at him, a poor guy from Midtown, and turn their noses.

Stephen drove him to a nice restaurant - the kind with cloth napkins and a fancy front man. He escorted Peter inside, allowing the host to lead them to a private booth.

Peter sat down and felt embarrassingly out of place. His trousers, while pressed, were faded and worn. His button-down was two sizes too big and he was useless with even the most basic knots for ties. His blazer wasn’t much better, the cuffs were worn at the edges and a couple of buttons were missing.

Stephen, however, was perfectly at home in a made-to-order suit from Sears Roebuck and Co. His tie was perfectly knotted and even his Jarman shoes were shiny rather than scuffed. He even smelled nice.

He was so far out of Peter’s league. But for some reason, this educated, handsome man wanted Peter. He’d bought him and less than two days after the application was approved, married him.

“This place is really nice,” Peter said quietly, looking around.

The dark wood paneling was relieved by the warm glow of rose-tinted glass sconces along the walls, ceiling light fixtures, and the rich teal upholstery of the benches in each booth. Each table was covered with an elegant primrose tablecloth. The vase in the center of their table was real crystal and held a small bouquet of flowers Peter had never even seen before.

“I suppose it would be,” Stephen said, tone noncommittal.

“Do we get menus?” Peter asked, folding his hands in his lap. Just how exactly did one go about making conversation with their new husband? He figured it would be awkward in any selected spouse situation.

“That won’t be necessary,” Stephen said.

The waiter brought Stephen a cocktail and Peter a glass of iced tea, unsweetened. “Were you ready, Dr. Strange?” he asked.

“We’ll have the roasted beef tenderloin, with beefsteak tomatoes for the salad,” Stephen instructed. “Baked potatoes, and the garlic French bread, as well.”

“Very good, Sir. I’ll put your order in straight away.”

“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” Peter said, more confused than annoyed.

“I don’t care what you want.”

Peter had no idea what to say to that, only felt like he’d just been struck across the face.

“I had little interest in marriage, selected or otherwise. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t have bothered if it weren’t strongly recommended by the board of directors at Sanctum General as a factor in my continued employment and eventual advancement.” Stephen stared him down and Peter clenched his hands to keep from fidgeting. “We’ll go over rules and expectations when we get home, but so long as you’re obedient and don’t cause problems, I don’t see why we can’t have an amicable life together.”

“We do have a year to see if it works or not,” Peter said quietly.

“Indeed,” Stephen drawled.

Peter fully intended to annul the marriage if it didn’t work. As it was, it was not off to an auspicious start. But, he told himself, he was strong. He could survive a year.

He bit back any questions he had and busied himself with doctoring his tea with one of the delicate sugar cubes in a small crystal bowl on the table. The tea wasn’t nearly as good as what his aunt had made, but it was better than nothing.

Stephen, on the other hand, had turned his attention to his phone, probably looking through important emails or patient chart updates. Peter hadn’t actually seen a mobile device up close, since only the very rich could even afford them. His only experience with phones was using the old but sturdy rotary kind.

When the waiter appeared to set the table, Peter tried not to gawk. The array of silverware - real silver! - was confusing. Stephen seemed to understand his hesitance after the tomatoes were brought out with the bread.

“You start from the outside and as the meal progresses, work your way in,” he said simply. “I’m sure I have a book on dining etiquette somewhere on my bookshelves. You’ll read it.”

Peter nodded and did his best to mimic Stephen.

He knew he must look awkward, but he didn’t knock anything over, stain the tablecloth or his shirt, and he wasn’t hauled out by his ear for using what he knew was a more-than-healthy dose of salt and pepper on his plain baked potato, foregoing the butter and sour cream in favor of spooning some of the tenderloin’s juices on top.

He couldn’t add much in terms of conversation, but at least the food turned out to be amazing.

Following dinner, Stephen drove them north through town, slightly west, and through large, elaborate wrought iron gates that proclaimed Bleecker Grove. The houses were neat with tidy lawns and mailboxes. Peter recognized many of the automobiles as expensive and nearly new, just like Stephen’s Buick.

Then Stephen turned into a driveway, parked, and cut the engine.

Home.

His new home was somehow inviting and dread-inspiring at the same time.

It was a beautiful Cape Cod style house. Its light gray paint only served to showcase the robin’s egg blue of the door, shutters, window grids, and flower boxes. A slate blue roof gave way to a dark red brick chimney on the side and the lawn was immaculate.

Peter was looking at wealth, security, and prestige on perfect display.

“Inside,” Stephen said, giving Peter a small push.

The inside was just as impressive, if lifeless. The living room off to the left of the foyer boasted a grand fireplace. The walls were papered with a damask stripe in powder blue, while the carpet was an even deeper blue. The window treatments were dark red with a goldenrod floral print. A goldenrod couch was facing the back wall and two chairs - one goldenrod and the other with the same pattern as the curtains sat opposite with a coffee table between.

It was grand, showy, and obviously meant for entertaining.

Oh, no.

Would he have to host dinner parties, now that he was the husband of a prominent and respected doctor? He knew nothing about entertaining! He doubted making sweet and sour meatballs and filling a few bowls full of crackers for a lively night of canasta and bridge counted. Stephen’s guests would no doubt be sophisticated and stuffy, a far cry from the bawdy ladies his Aunt May had rotated card nights with.

Finishing his perusal of the room, he saw Stephen watching him with a raised brow and something like an amused smirk playing about his mouth.

What? He couldn’t be curious about the home he’d be living in for at least the next year?

Moving past Stephen, he came to the dining room on the other side of the foyer.

It was… elegant.

A built-in showcased fine China and silver. The dining table seated six and was decorated with a cream and jade green cloth shot through with gold. He imagined the cherry wood sideboard housed the rest of the fine linens, assorted dishes and candles. The window treatments were heavy crushed Jade green velvet.

“Is it to your liking?” Stephen asked with an air that told Peter he didn’t particularly care if it was or wasn’t.

“The cream carpet will be a pain to clean if food or drink ever hits it,” Peter said honestly. “It’s nice, though. Was it your mother who decorated? Or maybe a sister?”

Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I could have done it?”

Peter snorted. “Most men don’t have the eye for this sort of detail,” he reasoned. “It’s not a criticism; this is really well done.”

“I hired an agency to decorate,” Stephen finally said. “The agent assigned to my account drafted several designs for each room and I chose which one I preferred.”

“You chose well,” Peter said, moving further back into the house.

“In some things.”

Ouch.

The kitchen was thoroughly modern, which made him happy. He would be spending most of his time in this room, probably.

The major appliances were all built into the cabinets. He’d seen advertisements for Stark Company’s famous line of Kitchen Living, but never such luxury in person. The double ovens and connected broiler would get a lot of use, as would the separate gas range that included an actual deep fryer! He was tall enough to reach the refrigeration cabinets, so at least he wouldn’t have to endure the humiliation of asking for a stepstool. There was even a top-loading dishwasher. The appliances and cabinets were all blue, which surprised him. He’d have been sure that those rich enough to afford the top-of-the-line set-up would have chosen Stark’s signature Hot Rod Red, despite the array of color choices. Then again, Stephen appeared to prefer blue.

They looked nice with the white countertops, black and white checkered flooring, and black and white curtains adorning the window that gave a perfect view of the backyard. There was even a table and chair set for two, presumably for breakfast.

Leaving the kitchen there was a closet built into the back of the staircase, and then he found a family room. Or a den, as his aunt had called theirs. This room was more lived-in than the rest of the house. Knotty pine wooden panels covered the walls, lending to the warmth of the red carpeting, dark brown armchairs, and built-in bookshelves that were filled with more books than Peter had seen outside of a library. A small liquor cabinet took up the far corner and Peter’s fingers itched to play with the PymCo console and record player along another wall.

It was more comfortable and even… cozy than Peter would have expected of someone as stiff as Stephen.

“The mudroom is through the side door in the kitchen,” Stephen said, striding over to the record player. “I have a washer and dryer, along with racks for hanging more delicate garments to dry. There’s also a clothesline set up in the yard.”

Peter turned to look at him.

“The door through the dining room leads to a half-bathroom,” Stephen added. “Shall we go upstairs?”

Peter swallowed and followed Stephen, collecting his two suitcases. “S-sure.”

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